History in Motion
by sydneysages
Summary: Myrnin decides that Claire's humanities education needs some brushing up in light of an upcoming ball, using examples of vampires in Morganville. Excerpt: "Let me guess. The town contains a recluse vampire—other than you, of course—and that's Anne Boleyn. It was only trickery that made everyone think they'd seen her beheaded; really, she's a vampire!"


I haven't written anything for a while, so apologies if this seems at all stilted

* * *

"Claire! What a fantastic surprise to see you here today, I wasn't expecting you back until…tomorrow! Yes, that's it, tomorrow, Wednesday, that's when you're supposed to be here." Myrnin began to ramble as Claire made her way down the final rickety steps into the laboratory, causing her to roll her eyes dramatically so that he'd notice.

"Myrnin, it _is_ Wednesday and you rang me _thirty four times_ in the space of an hour, leaving thirty four frantic voicemails, to say that you needed me here right away for an emergency lesson. Not to count the text messages. For a minute, I thought you'd actually broken my phone." To illustrate her point, Claire lifted her phone to show Myrnin the screen with an icon saying she had fifty unread messages—and most likely, they were all from her boss.

He blushed, or at least as much as a vampire could blush, before disappearing before her very eyes. It was one of those things he did which reminded Claire that he wasn't human—and it was one of the things which annoyed her greatly. She didn't like having a conversation with someone who, within a second, could be talking to her from the other side of the room.

"Ah yes, you're very correct, I had thought time had passed rather quickly…never fear, it simply means that you're going to learn the extremely important lesson even sooner than I had anticipated!" The excitement evident in Myrnin's voice was a cause for concern for Claire; she didn't fancy spending the rest of the day with him if he was in one of his 'I'm not yet going to kill you, but if you do something to stress me out I'll probably threaten you' moods. She hadn't experienced one for a while, and she wasn't keen to have it happen when she was so busy with her _actual_ degree.

Still, her curiosity was piqued. "Are you finally going to explain to me how you managed to come up with the theory that explains how the Higgs Boson particle is actually split further? Because I'm still interested in finding that out."

He was standing in front of her again within one blink, though she didn't let him see that she was startled by his movement. Best not to, if he was in one of _those_ moods. "Don't be ridiculous, Claire, I can't explain that to you until you accept alchemy as a real subject and not just the ravings of a madman. Not until you accept that there was an entire _guild_ of us in every single city within Europe and that alchemy works—at least in some situations—can I explain that to you."

Claire groaned despite herself. He'd been using this leverage against her for almost a month now, and whilst she was desperate to know how he'd managed to discover this particle, she wasn't going to play ball with him. Whilst the scientist within her wanted her to just agree alchemy was a real subject, the rest of her knew that she couldn't live with herself if she did it (not to mention that Myrnin would brag that he had finally worn her down for the rest of their time together). She'd just have to go another day.

"Well, if you've had me come all the way over here just to be reminded that I can't learn something which could change the course of science until I accept something which is idiotic, thanks Myrnin. I could have used the time to do something useful with my life." Claire loaded as much sarcasm into her voice as physically possible, watching as her boss's expression grew slightly confused.

"That wasn't why I called you over, Claire, you have a very important lesson to learn." He smiled and lifted something in his hands that hadn't been there the last time he was standing this close to her: a laptop, one which didn't have the memory capacity for the programmes they usually used. Its purpose was something very different to science—but what was it? "Over tea with Amelie yesterday, it came to my attention that at your _school_," he sneered, indicating his contempt for the university, "there is only one subject in which you struggle."

Immediately, Claire had a general idea of what she thought Myrnin's plan was. "Oh God, Myrnin, _please_ don't tell me you're going to try and tutor me in history. It's not like I'm anywhere near failing the class!"

Myrnin simply rolled his eyes, and Claire had to admit that it was a pretty good impression of what she'd done when she entered the lab. "It isn't full marks, and both Amelie and I are concerned. However, I am not going to teach you what you're paying good money to learn—it would be a waste of my money to pay you. No, what I am going to do is combine history and Morganville."

Ok. This was nothing like her brain had imagined; she'd expected him to try and lecture her in every single environment he'd lived in over his centuries, and expect her to use irrelevant information in her next history quiz. Worse, she'd expected him to try and make her sit exams he'd then mark, and point out everything she did wrong. This was positively simple in comparison.

"Let me guess, you're going to tell me everything that's happened in Morganville's history and then test me on it?" Claire asked, shifting passed her boss to sit down in her favourite seat. With the angles of the lights around it, you could almost pretend that it was the sun's natural rays—_almost_.

She didn't get a response for over a minute; Myrnin was too busy laughing to answer her. "Don't be ridiculous, Claire, why would I care anything about that? No, what you're going to learn will help you greatly in the present. Amelie has plans for you to be at the ball in December, though I'd appreciate it if you didn't let her know it was me who told you that, and it wouldn't do for you to make a faux pas and misidentify one of history's greatest figures, would it? We have a whole host of figures who appear in your textbooks, and some of them can get very tetchy when you call them the wrong name. I know this from personal experience, of course."

Claire shrugged, horror filling her; she couldn't sit through an entire lecture of Myrnin telling her who people were in their (long ago) pasts! Knowing him, he'd test her learning by going to meet them and asking her to introduce them—and then, if she didn't get killed for whatever misdemeanour they decided being called the wrong name warranted, get her to engage in a debate with said vampire about what they did before becoming a vampire. This could only end badly.

"Let me guess," she said very, very sarcastically. "The town contains a recluse vampire—other than you, of course—and that's Anne Boleyn. It was only trickery that made everyone think they'd seen her beheaded; really, she's a vampire!"

Myrnin blinked once, twice before setting the laptop down on the table in front of her and taking the seat to her left. "Don't be ridiculous, Claire. I was at her execution, and not even vampires can survive without their bodies—or their heads."

Claire decided not to mention Ada's brain.

Three hours later and the only break Claire had had was when she managed to persuade Myrnin that a bathroom trip was a necessary avoidance of his laboratory never entirely losing the unmistakeable scent of urine. Whilst he didn't seem to mind this—apparently his laboratory had always been quite the midden—when Claire reminded him that Amelie liked to visit and she probably wouldn't appreciate the smell. That had earned her a four and a half minute break, with Myrnin threatening to carry her out of the bathroom to continue learning after realising she was milking the trip to make it as long as possible.

"Recite the last four names we have discussed," Myrnin suddenly commanded, shaking Claire from her reverie.

"Um…there was…Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk…er…Abraham Lincoln—I see how he could have been a vamp before he was assassinated, it'd've certainly been easy for him to fake his death by being shot. Then there was…Karl the twelfth of Sweden. I can't imagine Amelie likes spending lots of time near him." Claire tried to make a joke about the last one to distract Myrnin's attention, but he wasn't buying into her latest trick.

"And the fourth name?" he pressed, his expression hardening when he realised that Claire couldn't answer. "Claire, we have only been through forty percent of the vampires in this town! Granted, I wouldn't expect you to learn the name of every single one of us—your puny brain isn't developed in the right areas to recall such information—but at _least_ learn basic history!"

Claire gritted her teeth, wondering for the eleventh time how she had managed to resist staking Myrnin over the course of the last three hours. "Unless you're careful, this puny brain won't remember that you're an ally, and it'll think you're just another vampire who needs staking."

"And _this_ brain will forget you're a friend and turn into a predator the next time you threaten me, Claire. You would do well not to forget that." Myrnin's voice became deeper, and Claire instantly recognised his 'don't mess with me' voice which was a stage before he turned into the raving vampire he could sometimes be. One look at his face almost made her shiver; his eyes were furious and focused directly on her face, a malicious grin on his lips which, deep down, reminded her of Bishop…

He shook himself and then Myrnin was back, the one who could normally take a joke relatively well. He smiled and stood up—Claire recognised the signs for excessive energy, and realised long before he said a word that they were leaving the lab. Looked like her puny brain could still work pretty damn well.

"We're taking a trip; it's the highlight of every history student's life!" Myrnin enthused, disappearing and reappearing with his favourite black coat.

"You forget, Myrnin, I'm a physics student. I don't ever want to major in history, especially after today's lesson. Now where are we going?"

Myrnin grinned once again, twirling before dropping into a deep bow in front of her. "You may want to keep your dislike of the arts to yourself, Claire; some in this town wouldn't agree with you. The person we are visiting, in particular, dislikes people who ignore her patronage to the arts; you will know their identity when we meet them."

"So, we're going to see Amelie?" Once again it wasn't difficult to join the dots—patronage was a dead giveaway—and she had to admit that she _liked_ the impressed look he gave her. Though she did feel just a tad offended he didn't expect her to figure out who they were visiting.

For the first time in the years since Claire had been in town, Amelie wasn't meeting them in her office. Rather, they were ushered into a formal sitting room which had a dainty china tea set on the mahogany table; if it wasn't for the fact she didn't know if Amelie took Earl Grey or just regular tea, Claire would have taken a cup.

Amelie arrived mere moments later, her cool grey eyes appraising Claire as she moved beyond the pair of them to sit in the armchair which was _so_ Amelie. "I didn't realise that we now invited guests to our tea sessions, Myrnin," Amelie commented, a slight glint in her eyes which Claire recognised as…_amusement?_ The longer time went without too great a threat to her power, Amelie grew more and more relaxed, though certain times of the year seemed to cause the ice to douse her internal fiery fury for what seemed like eons.

Myrnin cleared his throat, but it was Claire who managed to answer first—conveniently 'forgetting' what Myrnin had told her earlier about secrets.

"Myrnin wanted me to come here to test my knowledge of famous vampires—or who he considers famous—so that I don't get myself killed at the ball you're holding," Claire said with a smile directed at Myrnin. "I must admit, I'm rather touched at his concern for my welfare; it makes such a change, don't you think?"

The amusement faded as Amelie's expression grew dark, her eyes focused on Myrnin, and Myrnin alone. "I thought the meaning of the word _secret_ was that you do not tell your protégé, Myrnin. I was quite clear in my order not to inform Claire that she would be coming to the ball."

Myrnin gulped, though he managed to recover the situation quite well, in Claire's mind. "I only started to help her once she came to me with fears of not being able to recognise those of our kind who talk to her at the ball. It is understandable, I suppose, considering her appalling history grade."

Though she disliked the jibe at her GPA, Claire decided to step in to help Myrnin. "It was Oliver who told me; he started quizzing me on his history and then told me I needed to brush up on everyone's for some ball thing you're holding. He didn't make it sound very appealing." She managed to just about keep the smile off her lips, though she wasn't making everything up. Oliver actually _had_ started to quiz her on his past, though once she started listing off his mistakes—most notably Drogheda—he backed off and resumed his cool stance of pretending she didn't exist.

Amelie's eyes narrowed, and though Claire felt they weren't entirely convincing, the Founder couldn't pick any holes in their argument strong enough for her to dismantle it. "In that case, I will speak to Oliver later; disobeying me cannot go without consequence for any of our number—"

"Even the Founder's lover, that's right, Amelie, I quite agree!" Myrnin butted in, clearly overjoyed at the opportunity to get Oliver into trouble—even though it hadn't been his idea. "If you like, Founder, I can fetch him for you right away."

It was clear Amelie was struggling to resist rolling her eyes. "If you would like to do so, you may, Myrnin, though if it appears you have been lying when he arrives, your allowance may…decrease by rather a large amount."

Gulping, Myrnin nodded and almost twirled elegantly around to depart the room without a word to Claire. Whilst she wasn't particularly bothered, she began to wonder what trouble she could get herself into in this meeting with Amelie—the first solo meeting they'd had in months.

"You are now aware of all of my society's upper class?" Amelie asked Claire, reaching forward to pick up a teacup as she spoke. When Claire nodded, she continued, a sly smile on her lips that Claire didn't like. "In that case, you can assist me in the meeting scheduled for next week. I require an assistant for it—Binkie appears to have booked time off, a holiday she can have only due to your meddling in matters—so with your newfound knowledge of my community, you should be rather helpful."

Internally, Claire groaned. She knew that Amelie had been waiting to get her back for subtly suggesting to the vampires of Morganville that they should get the same rights humans had—the right to paid holidays one of the major ones. And really, this wasn't the worst way she could have gotten her revenge. At least she wasn't being made to do yet more filing, which she'd had to do in response to her part in Eve and Michael's redecorating of Amelie's office.

"Um, okay?" Claire said, not sure what to say to such a demand. "Well, if that's everything, I'd best be off to memorise your vamps' names. Wouldn't do for me to get eaten by one at a public function now, would it?"

A genuine smile slipped through Amelie's façade for just a moment, the slight inclination of her head indicating she had recognised the humour in Claire's statement. That was an achievement; part of her mission had been to get Amelie, Oliver and Myrnin to accept 21st century culture and humour, this being just one example of her success.

"Perhaps you ought to study especially hard the history of Marie de Guise, considering how hot-tempered she is at the moment, what with the anniversary of her daughter's demise coming up," Amelie suggested, taking a sip of her drink.

"Will do."

Just as Claire turned away, Amelie added something else. "Please do continue to emphasise Oliver's failings, it is always amusing to see him taken down a peg or so, and your American ignorance is the most successful way to ensure he cannot lose his temper."

Her comment could be taken as either a compliment or an insult, but Claire decided to take the compliment; it didn't happen often, and getting a free pass to insult one of the world's most arrogant people was certainly not something she was going to pass up.


End file.
